Venom
by Tanba Josav
Summary: When the world finds out you're a mutant and everyone turns against you, what would you do? Do you turn the other cheek or lash out at the ones who have hurt you? Who will come to rescue you and will they save you or condemn? One mutant finds out. NOW COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is set sometime after the first movie and before the second. I've always felt that Logan drifted in and out of the mansion annoying Summers while he pottered about Canada looking for some hint of his past.

THANKS: To 'Somebody's MissBehaving Angel' for her beta work on this story.

DISCLAIMER: X-Men and all their affiliates belong to Marvel Comics, and 20th Century Fox Studios for the time being. All other characters belong to me. No money is being made from this exercise.

* * *

Jessica Morrison stood in front of the cracked bathroom mirror and contemplated her new life. She laughed, mirthlessly. Life, now that's a joke! Everything that was her life could fit into her two battered old suitcases with room to spare. Her life was full of dirty men and dingy motel rooms and a desperate desire to escape to a better world, not that it existed anymore. She'd had it once – the perfect home, loving husband and a little one on the way – but she'd still managed to ruin it all with her tainted blood. She deserved this pitiful existence; she was good for nothing else.

Jessica tore open two Band-Aids and wrapped them around her right index finger. The damn thing had been oozing all morning and she didn't need it affecting her night's work. While she might be working the low end of her new profession the clients still expected some sort of cleanliness, even if they didn't follow the same rules. Looking up she prodded the area around her left eye. The swelling had gone down leaving a dirty yellow bruise behind. A gift from a former client of hers who hadn't wanted to pay. So he'd paid with his life instead. It didn't bother her except it meant moving again. She applied some bright red lipstick and adjusted her fading silk bathrobe. Different city, different clients, same old job.

As if on cue there was a knock at the door. Jessica took one more look in the mirror.

Taking a deep breath she tried a smile, "Show time!"

The man at the door was not Prince Charming; not that she'd ever expected him to be. Jessica had laughed herself stupid the first time she had watched 'Pretty Woman' after she'd begun her new life. Before, it had been one of her favourite movies.

"Huh," he looked her up and down. "You it?"

"Guess I am." Jessica stepped back to let him into the room.

He walked in and looked around. There wasn't much to see, everything was a sad shade of brown; brown walls, darker brown bedspread, tan lampshade on a tacky veneer bedside table. Even the painting above the bed was a muted brown hunting scene – the only splash of colour was the pale and faded red jackets that the hunters wore. Her client looked to be somewhere in his thirties and fat, going bald but trying to cover it. Probably wouldn't know a kind word if it tried to hump his leg. He looked like a slob and probably drove a truck for a living, just the type she normally serviced. Probably had a hairy back too, she just hoped she could convince this one to wear a condom.

He scratched his balls through his dirty blue jeans. "Whatcha do?"

Jessica tried to smile seductively, "Whatever you want, within reason."

"Hope you do more than my wife."

Jessica noticed the wedding band for the first time and suppressed a shudder. The married ones tended to be the worst, always wanting the really kinky stuff never liking to pay for it. Especially the redneck types like this guy here.

"As long as you pay, handsome." Jessica opened her robe and dropped it to the floor. She wasn't wearing anything underneath. Her new career didn't exactly require business suits or accessories.

"Damn, you ugly," Redneck said. "Good thing you're cheap."

Jessica knew she wasn't anything to look at. Hadn't her husband told her that over and over again? That she was so lucky he ever chose her in the first place. She knew what Redneck was seeing; her mousy hair she'd hacked off to just below her ears last week, sad muddy brown eyes, generous love handles and what her mother used to call 'thunder thighs'. She knew she was overweight but did they have to keep reminding her all the time. What did they expect for thirty bucks, Julia Roberts?

"Do you want to do this or not?" she asked him.

"I thought you'd never ask."

The voice came from the man just walking into the room. Sixties, distinguished with silver grey hair, sounded and dressed like some college professor. His accent placing him from somewhere overseas, England, maybe, or Europe – he was everything the other man was not.

"I didn't agree to no group sex." Jessica said.

"Neither did I," the older man replied. He paused a moment, like he was preparing to do something distasteful before perching delicately on the very edge of the bed and addressed Redneck. "Mystique, please close the door."

Turning Jessica was shocked to discover that the redneck was gone and in his place was a taller, thinner, very naked _blue_ woman. "What the fuck?"

"Now, now, mind your language," the older man said. "We have a business proposal for you and I'm sure you'll enjoy this one a bit more than what you were expecting to do."

Jessica crouched down to grab up her robe, hastily putting it on. She didn't like the way the other woman was looking at her like she was some sort of side-show freak. Talk about calling the kettle blue! Just because she looked so comfortable and natural in her nakedness while all Jessica wanted to do every time she disrobed was close her eyes or turn out the lights, preferably both. "I have no idea what you two want but I don't do this kind of kinky shit!"

"I don't want sex with _you_." The man's voice dripped with scorn. "But we will have to do something with your look."

"Lose some weight if nothing else." The blue woman's voice was low and husky.

"You're freaks." Jessica knew all about the so called 'mutants' and what they were capable of doing. She began edging along the wall hoping to reach the front door and somehow escape until she saw her exit blocked off by the Mystique woman.

"We're all, as you so colourfully put it, freaks here, Jessica." The man said.

She jumped in shock when she heard her name.

"Oh yes," he had noted her reaction. "We know what it's like to be hated, judged, to be run out of your home, your life, just because you're different to everyone else." His lips peeled back in a grimace as he spoke. The words were spit out in a stream of hatred and vitriol. "They fear what they don't understand and so they try to destroy it."

"Who?" Jessica asked in spite of herself. His words had struck a chord deep inside.

"_Humans_." In that one word the man revealed all his negative feelings towards the human race. "They think they're so much better, superior, but we know otherwise don't we?" he looked towards Mystique who smiled back. "We are the future, not them! And they despise us for it."

"What does any of that have to do with me?" Jessica asked.

The man stood up ignoring the question. "I was born with the name Eric Lehnsherr but you can call me Magneto and, of course, you've already met Mystique."

Jessica turned to stare at a carbon copy of herself. It was perfect in every way, like looking into a mirror except the other her was waving before it dissolved back into the blue woman. "What kind of names are those?"

"Our true ones," Magneto said. "You have one too. I was thinking perhaps, Talon."

"I like Venom," Mystique said. "The perfect name for a woman scorned."

"Yes," Magneto drew the word out, thoughtfully. "You could be right."

Jessica pulled the robe more tightly around her body like it was some sort of shield. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm a norm-"

"Please, we know exactly what you are." Magneto walked over to Mystique, who promptly draped herself over one arm like some sort of accessory. They both stared intently at Jessica. "We've been following your progress for months. You've left quite a tidy trail of corpses to follow. Even the police eventually had to notice, though it took them a while."

"Oh god," Jessica whispered as she collapsed back onto the bed in shock.

"You're lucky we found you first." Mystique said.

"It wasn't my fault," Jessica said. "The first one tried to rape me and then the next –"

Magneto held up one hand. "I'm sure they deserved their punishment and you're not a killer by nature but you are so good at it and I," he paused and looked at Mystique, "_we_ need your services."

"You mean . . ?"

Magneto smiled, "We want you to kill someone."

Jessica opened and closed her mouth, god she must look like a stupid fish. Her eyes darted about the room as she looked for an escape. Why was this happening to her, why couldn't the world just leave her alone? What did they mean kill someone? Who were these people? Maybe she should just play along until she could get away from them, but then what, she couldn't go to the police, not after what she had done. Maybe they were right, she was a killer after all and wasn't a hired killer a better job than prostitute?

Jessica took a deep breath and tiredly asked. "Who?"

"A mutant. A very prominent one that continues to be a thorn in my side. Perhaps you've seen him on television? Always prattling on about how humans and mutants can co-exist, like if we'd all just be friends everything will be fine." Magneto stared hard at Jessica, as if reading her thoughts. "But you and I know better, Jessica, we've experienced the real world where being different can be deadly." Magneto's eyes narrowed slightly. "In fact you might say it's all Charles's fault that you live like this. If he wasn't so determined to give mutants such a high profile, making humans panic and suspect every little thing we do, you might never have been caught. You might still be living quietly with your family instead of selling yourself for a measly cup of coffee. By the way, how did you get caught?" he asked the last sentence indifferently like he already knew the answer but was just waiting for her to confess all her sins against nature.

"I accidentally killed the dog." Jessica said.

Magneto laughed at the absurdity of her words. "Oh how the mighty fall!" he glanced down at her hands. "Show me who you really are."

Jessica plucked nervously at the Band-Aids on her finger. "My mother told me never to show anyone. She said it could be dangerous." She contemplated those words. Her mother never stood by her when the others found out, she hadn't stopped them from hurting her and driving her away. Her mother had never supported her in any way as her life crumbled around her. Where was mother dearest now, she would be ashamed to see her only daughter like this. Jessica ripped off the Band-Aids and held up her right hand.

Short blunt nails covered each finger except for the index one. On that one a nail had never grown, instead there was only rough scaly skin and a thin indentation that ran from where her nail would have started to the tip of her finger. On the end was a small glistening bead of opaque liquid.

"I used to hide it with acrylic nails," Jessica explained. "You're right," she looked over at Mystique. The blue woman had moved away from Magneto and was staring intently at Jessica's hand. "Venom would be a good name for me since that's what I use to kill." She licked the bead of liquid off the tip of her finger, grimacing slightly at the taste.

Magneto turned towards Mystique. "The most poisonous substance known to man and she just licks it like it is nothing." He looked back to Jessica. "I take it you're immune?"

"It makes me feel sick but it won't kill me. I only ever seem to make enough to kill one person at a time and I have to dispose of it safely everyday otherwise the venom builds up on the tip and all I have to do is touch someone and they die. Quicker if I can inject it, otherwise it absorbs through the skin."

"Perfect!" Magneto said. "Just perfect."

"For you, maybe, but you try living this life."

Magneto looked around the dreary hotel room, taking in the faded décor, the pathetically small pile of grubby notes poking out from underneath Jessica's clothing that was haphazardly piled on the floor and the used condoms in the small bin by the bedside table. "I can take you away from all this. Give you the life you've always wanted, one you deserve where no one can ever tell you you're different. One where _you_ have the power."

"And all I have to do is kill some mutant for you?" Jessica said.

"It would be a start."

Mystique reached across and nudged Magneto. "Don't forget the ring," she said.

"Ah, yes, I bought a present." A slender metallic object floated out of Magneto's coat pocket. "Consider it a down payment on services soon to be rendered." It floated in front of him before coming to rest on his outstretched left hand.

Jessica tried to hide her interest but failed miserably. It had been a long time since anyone had bought her a present, let alone cared and even though these two obviously had an agenda in wanting her assistance at least they didn't try and hide the fact.

"Well, are you interested?" Magneto asked. When Jessica nodded he said, "Hold out your hand."

The object floated across the room and came to rest in Jessica's open hand. She rolled it around in her palm. It was a hollow cylinder, jointed in the middle and designed to fit over a finger.

"The tip is sharp, so be careful." Magneto said. "And there is no more need to worry about 'milking' your venom; it is designed to hold several days worth."

"Why hold yourself to just killing one?" Mystique said. "We should pay your ex-husband and his new family a visit," she smiled, "make sure the ring works."

Jessica smiled back and slid the ring onto her right index finger. It was a perfect fit.

* * *

_Eight months later_

The ruby red laser beam shot from Cyclops's visor to splatter harmlessly against the projected shield of the mutant in front of him.

The boy, with a punk purple hairdo, just grinned at the leader of the X-Men before casually turning back to yell into the building he was standing in front of. "Hey, hurry up in there, this is getting boring."

Growling Cyclops increased the intensity of the beam but it was no use. "Storm, Logan," he shouted into his radio. "Where are you?"

"Gee love to help ya, Scooter, but we're busy," came back the distinct growl of Logan in his ear. "Solve your own damn problems, bub."

"Great!" he spoke into the radio again. "What about you, Jean?"

The X-Men were trying to get past the mutant guarding the front of the building and find out what was so important that a small band of the 'Brotherhood of Mutants' would try and take over an animal testing laboratory. Scott Summers, aka Cyclops, had decided to distract one of the mutants while Jean Grey took the opportunity to sneak around the back and try to use her kinetic ability to pick the lock.

"Right now," Jean's voice said. "I'm thinking of just blasting the doors off."

"That would be a bit noisy don't you think?"

"Hey, Scott, this is a lot harder –"

Static filled Scott's earpiece. "Jean? Jean?!"

Scott was torn between the need to check on his fiancée and keep to the mission. "Storm something has happened to Jean." He said.

"We're on it." Logan said back.

Ironic how Logan's problems happily cleared themselves up when it came to helping Jean.

"This dude is getting restless out here." The punk mutant told his friends in the building. "Let's go already."

"Right." An older man and woman suddenly appeared next to Punk Mutant. "We're done!"

"Alise!" Punk called out. "Quit playing around and get us outta here!"

Cyclops suddenly found he was flying through the air to land heavily in the snow. Looking up he watched as footprints appeared in the dirty slush before him.

"The way's clear." A distinctly feminine voice with a Texan accent spoke out of the thin air.

Dropping his shield Punk and the other two ran past Cyclops. "Catch ya later, man." Punk said.

"Dammit!" Cyclops nudged his earpiece back into place and spoke into it. "Where is everyone?"

"Right here." A beautiful dark skinned woman, Ororo Munroe, stumbled around the corner of the building supported by a striking redhead, Jean Grey.

"What happened?" Cyclops asked the two women.

"Something attacked me," Jean said. "Scott, I never saw a thing."

Cyclops stood up and began to brush the slush off his uniform, "Yeah, she got me too."

"She?" Jean arched an eyebrow at that revelation.

"Don't start." Cyclops turned to Ororo, whose powers with the weather had earned her the nickname of Storm. "What about you?"

"Logan sent me to check up on Jean but I never made it that far. Whatever this mutant is she must have attacked me too."

"Speaking of Logan, where is he?" Jean asked, looking around.

"I knew you loved me, Jeannie."

Turning the three saw the last of their small group walking up behind them. The stocky Canadian snorted as he took in their bedraggled state. Apart from a few tears in his black leather uniform and some drying blood on one of his mutton-chop sideburns he was remarkably unscathed.

"Where were you?" Cyclops asked.

"Keep ya visor on," Logan replied. "After I sent Storm over to check on Red I ran into Sabretooth."

Storm shuddered at the memories of that crazed mutant. "I thought we'd killed him?"

"What can I say," Logan shrugged. "He's remarkably hard to kill, kinda like me."

"Yeah and just as appealing." Cyclops said dryly.

"Do we know what they took?" Jean asked Scott.

Cyclops shook his head as the team began walking towards the building. "Not a clue, I don't even know why they were here."

"It's an animal testing place right?" Logan indicated the building. "Maybe Sabretooth was looking for relatives."

"What if they're conducting research against mutants?" Storm suggested.

"Whatever's going on in there lets take a quick look round." Scott said. "See if anything obvious is missing, check the computers then get back home. Hopefully the Professor has a better idea what is going on."

* * *

"I confess to having no idea what Magneto and his people are up to." Professor Charles Xavier, creator and spiritual leader of the X-Men, gracefully maneuvered his wheelchair around his desk.

"What about Cerebro?" Jean asked, referring to the unique machine that connected Xavier with every mutant on the planet.

"I can contact the mutants involved, but they know only what Eric tells them."

"And you can't read Magneto, thanks to his helmet." Scott finished for the Professor.

"Exactly."

"So what do we know?" Ororo tucked some white hair behind one ear. "The Brotherhood has increased attacks in the last few months but their targets are small, petty."

"Animal testing laboratory," Jean ticked off the list on her fingers. "A weapons manufacturer, two separate police stations, a morgue, an intensive care unit, a computer shop, oh and don't forget that high school."

"Where they got that purple haired kid." Scott said. "And that's just this month!"

"There is no pattern to their targets," Xavier said. "Individually they might make sense, but why now? Why all at once?"

"I'm tellin' ya, they're yanking our chains." Logan said. "Making us run around like idiots. We should be actin' not reactin'!"

Ororo yawned. "All I know is I'm glad we found that substitute teacher because the last thing I want to think about is school tomorrow."

"How is Jessi going, Professor?" Jean asked.

"She seems to be fitting in nicely," he said.

"You ask me the woman's weird." Logan said.

Scott snorted. "We didn't and have you looked in the mirror lately, Logan? None of us are exactly candidates for the poster child of normalcy here."

"She _is_ hiding something from us." Jean pointed out. "I can sense it."

"We've all hid something about ourselves at least once in our lives." Xavier said neutrally. "Right now she doesn't want to admit she is a mutant, she has her reasons and I'm sure she will reveal them in time."

"Why don't you just go poking around in her head?" Logan asked.

Xavier sighed. "Because that would be a breach of her privacy. I can't very well go out there and ask the rest of the world to trust that mutants won't go interfering in their everyday lives if I go around reading everyone's minds at will. We have a responsibility to uphold a rigid set of ideals and ethics, myself even more so."

Logan raised an eyebrow, "Didn't stop you from peeking in my mind."

"That's because he never expected to find anything." Scott said.

"Scott!" Jean fought to hide her smile.

"It's late and you are all tired," Xavier said. "I suggest we resume this discussion in the morning when we'll all be a lot more coherent."

"Sounds good to me." Logan stood up and walked out of the room.

The rest of the group quickly followed him.

* * *

_Tink! Tink! Tink! Tink!_

Rogue looked up from her Cornflakes, it was late in the morning and the only two people still eating were herself and the new substitute teacher. Everyone else was off filling in time with friends before classes started. The sub had started teaching a few weeks ago and not much was known about her, probably because she kept to herself and ate after almost everyone else had already gone. This had caused much speculation on behalf of the students. The only thing they knew for certain about her was that she once had a son, who was a mutant. The boy had died under mysterious circumstances; many had whispered that he had been murdered. The other most startling fact about the woman was the silver prosthetic she wore on her right index finger, no one had worked out the reason behind it.

_Tink! Tink! Tink!_

Rogue had been up late last night studying and the noise of the teacher tapping her cup was aggravating a headache. She cleared her throat; when nothing changed Rogue finally spoke up. "Miss Newton?"

"Yes, dear?" the newspaper she had been reading was dropped to the table to reveal a woman in her late thirties. She had a bright, ready smile and her light brown hair that was full of blonde highlights, fell to her shoulders in a layered cut that some celebrity had made very popular. Miss Newton always wore the most fashionable styles that accentuated her voluptuous curves. All the boys agreed that at some point in time she'd definitely had breast implants and probably some other alterations as well. As John had put it, "Nobody that old looks that good without a bit of help."

"Ah, have a headache," Rogue was explaining.

"Would you like me to get you some aspirin?" Miss Newton offered immediately.

"No, no, it was just that your, uh," Rogue gestured towards the older woman's right hand. "You were making a bit of a noise."

Miss Newton looked down at her prosthetic. "Oh I'm sorry, Marie," she said. "It's a bit of a nervous gesture. I didn't even realise I was doing it."

"Oh that's okay. Ah didn't mean to imply you were doing it deliberately."

Rogue wasn't sure if she liked Miss Newton or not. The woman was all sweetness and light to the adults in the mansion but as soon as they were gone she changed. When teaching she could bring even the most confident of the students down to size, by making them feel small and childish with her cutting remarks. She insisted that everyone call her 'Jessi' but the one and only time someone had Miss Newton had turned cold and distant and no one tried again. She also had a habit of calling Rogue by her real name, Marie, which she hated. It was the name her parents had given her and it was a name she had quickly abandoned, much like her parents had abandoned her when they learned she was a mutant. Not even the Professor did that anymore. As far as the young woman was concerned Rogue she was and Rogue she would always be.

"It's such a silly thing," Miss Newton looked at her finger. "That I sometimes forget it's there."

"Why do you wear it?" Rogue didn't really want to talk to the teacher but Kitty had been dying to learn more about the woman and she would never forgive Rogue for passing up such a golden opportunity.

"Well, when I was only about five years old my brother accidentally shut my finger in a door of our house. The force was so great that it cut off the tip of my finger."

"Wow."

"Wow, indeed. Lost the tip almost down to the first knuckle, you can't imagine the taunts I used to get from the other children at school," Miss Newton looked thoughtful. "Or maybe you can. Nobody likes being different. Maybe that's why I came here to help because in my own small way I know what its like." She leant across the table and held out her hand. "I had a friend who works with metal. He made it for me. Would you like a closer look?"

The prosthetic was dark silver in colour and covered Miss Newton's finger down to the second knuckle. Rogue reached out and ran a finger over the surface. She could feel the ridges that covered where the first knuckle would have been and enabled the device to bend in imitation of a real finger but she discovered that the rest of the prosthetic was covered in rows of delicately carved scales that were invisible to the eye. It reminded Rogue, in some weird way, of the skin of a reptile, all cool and inhuman.

"Why is the tip like that?" the girl asked pointing at the end that didn't look like a human nail at all but more like a talon.

Miss Newton shrugged. "My friend's idea of a joke, still it means I have a great party trick. All I need is some paper and some ink and I can write with it. Speaking of writing, don't you have class?"

"Oh!" Rogue glanced at her watch. "Ah'm late, see you after lunch, Miss Newton."

With that Rogue picked up her bowl and spoon, dropping them off at the dishwasher and hurried out of the room.

"Bye!" Miss Newton smiled at the girl's departure. As soon as she was once again alone the bright cheery smile faded away and she returned to her reading.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

* * *

Over the following weeks the Brotherhood continued their unpredictable raids, no one ever knew when or where they would strike next. Sometimes there were days of quiet where Scott and the others could concentrate on teaching the students how to deal with their new found abilities as well as everyday education, and then there would be a flurry of random attacks ranging from the petty to the dangerous. When those times occurred all the X-Men could do was drop what they were doing and rush into action.

"Where the hell is Logan?" Scott asked, as he zipped up his black uniform.

"According to the Professor he's not on the grounds." Jean tied back her hair and began pulling on her gloves.

"Typical, he's never around when you need him."

"I'm sure he has a good reason." Storm said. "Besides," she grinned at Scott. "I thought you preferred not having him around."

Scott smiled back. "I also prefer if it's him dealing with Sabretooth and not either of you two."

"Here's hoping that particular mutant isn't around this time." Jean said.

"Agreed." Storm added.

"We can't wait any longer for him. Storm prep the jet, please."

"On it." The Kenyan left the room.

Scott looked over at Jean. The redhead looked worried; in fact she had been like that all day. "Jean?" he asked.

Jean shrugged. "I don't know, Scott, I have this bad feeling. I can't explain it."

"What did the Professor say?"

"I haven't talked to him about it."

"Jean," Scott walked over and hugged his fiancée. "I know things have been a little different after what happened at the Statue of Liberty. You're powers are just growing you need to give yourself some time to adjust."

Jean sighed, "I know." She began to feel the slight vibrations of the jet through the floor as it started up.

"Let's go," Scott said. "Maybe if I'm really unlucky Logan might have decided to make an appearance by the time we get back."

The classroom was quiet, the silence only occasionally broken by a muted cough or the turning of paper. The old grandfather clock whiled away the minutes towards lunch as the small group of students laboured through calculus.

Rogue sighed and wiped away a bead of sweat that ran down her cheek. Summer had well and truly arrived in full force. She didn't like having to wear so much clothing but it was the only thing standing between her powers and some clumsy student's extensive stay in the infirmary. Not to mention having yet another personality taking up residence in her head.

A tugging on her sleeve made Rogue turn towards her friend, Kitty. The young mutant winked at Rogue as she mouthed the word 'boring'. Stifling a giggle Rogue looked towards the front of the classroom at their teacher, Miss Newton.

Normally Jessi Newton was a tyrant when it came to good behaviour in her classes but today she seemed distracted. She sat there staring off into the distance tapping a postcard on the desk. Kitty and Rogue weren't the only ones to notice that Newton wasn't herself and some of the students had taken the opportunity to pass notes and play a few games with their powers.

Suddenly there was a rumbling sound from deep underground that shook the books on their desks.

"Oh, not again!" Bobby grumbled.

"Wha? What was that?" a new student to the mansion asked nervously.

"Never you mind what that is, Simon." Miss Newton snapped at her student. "Just get on with your work."

"Chill, man," Bobby said confidently. "It's just the X-Men out to kick some ass!"

"Huh?"

A large black shape seemed to appear from the vicinity of the basketball court and shoot up into the air.

"Holy shit!" Simon said. "Is that what I think that was?"

By now all the students were up from their desks and crowding around the windows.

Various versions of "I wonder where they're going now?" and "What's happening, do you know?" were bandied about the room.

"Sit down! Sit down!" Miss Newton ordered, trying to restore calm.

"It's not fair!" Kitty muttered. "With the X-Men gone everyone else will be out of class."

"Yeah," another student said. "No teachers, no class!"

"Professor Xavier's class will still be running." Rogue said.

"Great," Simon said. "I have that after lunch."

The class went back to their desks grumbling at the unfairness of it all. Already they could hear other students enjoying the freedom of an extended lunch break.

"Stupid calculus," Kitty said. "It's too good a day to be stuck inside."

"Kitty is right."

Everyone looked up to stare at Miss Newton. No one could quite believe it was her who had spoken those words. She tapped the edge of the postcard on her desk, forcefully, as if making a decision. "It's a beautiful day, why spend it inside? Class is dismissed! Go have some fun."

Nobody dared move was this some sort of test, would the first kid to get up and try to leave get reamed out?

"Didn't you hear me?" Miss Newton barked, "I said go have some fun!"

"Well, if you say so." Bobby collected up his books. "Come on, before she changes her mind."

As if his movements had broken the suspense the entire class poured out of the room and into the sunshine outside.

Jessi Newton looked down at the postcard she had received just that morning. It showed a montage of scenes from Las Vegas. On the back in neat handwriting were the words: _'Having the time of our lives. Strongly suggest you finish your new assignment and join us for some fun. Regards, M&M.'_

* * *

Logan blew a long stream of smoke into the already smoky air and swallowed down the last of his beer. Pushing the glass across the dirty table he sat back and closed his eyes.

The waitress wandered over and picked up the glass. "You want another?" she asked.

Logan grunted his agreement and opened one eye to watch the woman walking away.

The waitress summed up the feel of the bar Logan was sitting in; over forty, covered in tattoos and sporting a 'don't fuck with me' attitude. In others words used, abused and wanting to be left the hell alone. Much liked Logan felt right now.

He had faced a few questioning glares the first few times he had walked in the door but it was amazing how breaking a pool cue over someone's head could earn you some peace and quiet. Which is exactly why Logan chose this place. It certainly wasn't for the ambience. The booze was cheap, the décor consisted of late-70s filth, the food was atrocious and the clientele was mostly bikers and recently released parolees.

Not the kind of place that you'd expect to find any of those damn kids in, or Scott for that matter. Which, again, suited the Canadian perfectly. Logan was by nature a loner and his need to get away from the one big happy mutant family that was Charles Xavier's mansion was overwhelming sometimes.

Not that it was all bad. There was Jean, of course, and to lesser degree young Rogue. Who had somehow uncovered paternal qualities in Logan that, to his best knowledge, he had never experienced before.

But he couldn't stand the constant noise, the damned rules and, most of all, Cyclop's smug 'holier than thou' attitude. The only reason he was the leader of Chuck's super secret band of mutant heroes was because there was no one else stupid enough to take the job. Especially Logan, who much preferred solo missions to the group-hug therapy that the X-Men seemed to embrace.

So every now and then Logan disappeared for a few days. Just took off without so much as a 'well, if you won't be needing me I hear a beer calling my name . . .'

Xavier knew where he was during these times. After all it was kind of hard to keep a secret from the most powerful telepath on the planet. Logan even suspected that the bald man understood and sometimes wanted to join in on playing hookey from life and all its problems. Besides if he was ever really needed Xavier could easily find him.

So Logan spent his days picking fights and chasing cheap women that wouldn't mind if he called them by someone else's name and spending his nights trying to keep one step ahead of his souped up metabolism with large portions of the alcoholic poison of his choice. Speaking of which . . .

A shot glass of whiskey appeared on the table in front of him quickly followed by a large jug of beer.

"You are paying tonight, right?" the waitress, Beryl, said.

"Keep ya wig on, woman," Logan growled. "You'll get your money."

"Before or after you hit the floor?"

Ever since it became known that Logan had a large capacity for drink there had been an unofficial pool as to the exact time he would finally pass out.

"What's the current total?"

"Hitting close to six hundred dollars and free beer for two nights."

"What did you put down?" Logan wasn't really interested but he sometimes felt an urge to pass the time between drinks with small talk.

"I bet thirty bucks you'd crack around midnight next Thursday."

"Tell you what," Logan said. "If I'm here I'll take a dive. You can keep the money I'll take the free booze."

Beryl grinned revealing a mouthful of bad dentistry. "It's a date, luv. Just make it look good."

"Yeah, yeah it'll be an Oscar winning performance." Logan murmured to her departing back. Picking up the shot glass Logan threw his head back and swallowed the whiskey in one large throat burning gulp before pouring himself a glass of beer.

He was halfway through drinking that when all the bottles behind the bar started to rattle and a faint rumbling passed overhead.

"Goddamn military," one of the patrons leaning heavily against the bar said. "Don't they have better things to do than go running about in the middle of the day?"

"Ain't no military base around here, Joe," Beryl said. "That's just some rich tourists on their way to Florida or something."

But Logan knew the bar wasn't on any commercial flight path and Joe had been half right. That must have been the X-Jet. Which meant that one of Magneto's goons was causing havoc again. Sighing he lit up another cigar and drank his beer. A part of him wished he were up there even if it did involve flying, while another part was just glad to be alone. And a small thought, that seemed to have the teasing cadence of Rogue's voice, wondered if Xavier would call him back and demand he baby-sit for a while until the real grownups came home.

Silence reigned for a few minutes then there was a wild cackle from across the room as the first strains of _Achy Breaky Heart_ echoed throughout the bar.

"Shit! When did he creep in?" Logan wondered aloud.

The he in question was 'Billy'. No one really knew who the man was as he kept to himself and any attempt to make conversation was met with wild mutterings and screaming obscenities. All anyone knew was he spent what little money he had on beer and the old jukebox in the corner. Which wouldn't be that bad, except the old drunk only ever played the one song.

"Dat boy puts his pants on one leg atta time. I heard him say that once, ya hear?" Billy cackled. "I knows him, I knows Billy Ray. Duh-du-da-da, duh-du-de-da-de-da. Sing it, boy, sing it."

"Shut up you old bastard." Someone yelled from the bar. "Or I'll break more than your heart!"

Logan quickly drank down two glasses of beer before dropping his cigar stub in the remaining dregs. Standing up he pulled his wallet out of a back pocket and slowly walked towards Beryl. He knew that the second he was clear of the table old Billy would be over there guzzling down the last of the jug of beer. Old wino didn't even care about the cigar floating in it; he'd probably try and eat _that_ too.

"Poor old fart." Beryl said, showing that even the hardest of bitches have a soft spot for something. "You going already?"

Logan raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to one side as Billy shouted: "Yessir, puts his legs on one pant atta time!"

"Can't stand that fuckin' song," he muttered. Besides if he was right and that had been the jet going overhead Chuck just might want him to head on back to keep an eye on things. Jessi Newton might still be around but Logan trusted her about as much as Scooter trusted him with a naked Jeannie. "Whadda I owe ya?"

"With or without tips?" Beryl said.

Logan snorted. "What do you think?"

Smiling knowingly Beryl wrote up a few numbers on her order pad. "Let's calls it fifty six bucks even."

Growling at the amount Logan handed over the amount. "Woman you better not try and rip me off."

"Honey, the only thing I want to rip off you are your clothes." Beryl pulled ten dollars from the amount and tucked them down her ample cleavage. "What shithead don't know won't hurt him." She said, referring to the absent manager.

"Consider that your tip then."

Beryl smiled. "I'll give it back if you go fishing for it."

"Maybe next time."

"Don't forget our date." Beryl shouted after him as he walked out the door.

* * *

Charles Xavier sat in his office listening to the happy shrieks and shouts coming through his window from the grounds outside. It seemed that the students had started up an impromptu basketball game. Smiling he manoeuvred his wheelchair around his desk. He'd give them a little bit longer before calling them inside. The children knew that whenever the X-Men were off on a mission that they were to assemble in one of the larger dining areas and work quietly on their homework but it didn't stop some of them from trying to escape even that duty.

Closing his eyes Xavier let his senses roam outwards checking that everything was as it should be. He didn't anticipate any problems for his team as it looked like another one of Eric's senseless raids that only served as a distraction and not much else. Charles just wished he knew what his old friend was really up to. Roaming further afield he sensed the mental image of Logan on his way back after a few days of freedom. Drawing his mind back he made a quick inspection over the mansion, all the students were accounted for and Miss Newton was – Charles eye's snapped open. Something was wrong!

* * *

'_Logan get back to the mansion as fast as you can!'_

"Shit!" Logan nearly ran himself off the road at the unexpected call rang through his brain. "Give a man some warning will ya!"

'Now_ Logan, something isn't right.'_

"Yeah, yeah." But that didn't stop Logan from pressing down on the accelerator as he sped along the wooded road.

* * *

Jessi Newton stood outside Xavier's office trying to summon up the courage needed for what she was about to do. Wiping sweaty palms on her long pleated skirt she pasted a bright smile on her face and knocked.

"Come in, Jessi."

"Ah, Professor Xavier," Jessi poked her head around the door and saw the man seated behind his large desk. "I was wondering if I could have a word about some of the students."

Charles motioned Jessi inside. "Of course, but that's not what you're really here for."

Jessi giggled nervously. "Can't hide anything from you, now can I?"

"It can be done, but not easily."

She walked in and stood before the desk. "I'm a little worried about Marie –"

Charles held up one hand, his gaze seeming to pass right through her. "What do you really want?"

"Are you reading my mind?!" Jessi felt a jolt of alarm. What if he found out? What if she couldn't finish her mission? He had ruined her life, all their lives with his philosophy that 'honesty is the only way to gain the humans' trust'. Never mind that trust is a trait sorely lacking in most people when confronted by the unknown.

Charles leant forwards in his chair. "Who are you really?" It went against his nature to invade another like this but sometimes it was the only way. He needed to know more about this woman that he had let into his school, into his children's lives. If he was wrong he could apologise later; Charles Xavier pushed a little deeper.

"_It's just a little thing, Merrill." A woman was saying. "So she's missing a fingernail."_

"_Makes her look wrong, woman. No child of mine's not going to look right."_

X

"_Mama, why's you doing that?"_

_A woman looking older than her years bent over a six-year-old girl. She pressed a fake acrylic nail over the little girl's right index finger. "It's so you'll look like everyone else. People can be cruel to children who are different."_

"_Like Lily Sue cause she can't talk right?"_

"_Just like that." the woman took out a pair of nail scissors and trimmed the nail down so it matched the rest. "Now don't let it fall off or there'll be hell to pay from your father."_

X

_Same girl a few years older crying over a limp bundle of fur. "I didn't mean it mama, I _swear_!"_

_The woman walked over and picked the bundle up revealing a dead kitten. "What did you do?"_

"_Nothin'! I was sitting here patting Socks and he just bit me so I squeezed him a little to make him stop. Why did he die?" _

_The woman looked from the kitten to her child. She notices the nail on the girl's right index finger has snapped off and a small bead of milky red substance glistening on the tip. Turning the kitten over she finds the tip of the fake nail imbedded in the side._

"_Your father was right, Jessica," she murmured. "You really are a spawn of the devil."_

X

_Merrill Burgess turns off the television set with a grunt of disgust. "Goddamn mutants. Government should round them up and burn 'em all!"_

"_Yessir," Peter Newton slung an arm over Jessica's shoulder as he nodded at his father-in-law. "I totally agree, and you know whose fault this all is? Atheists!"_

"_Atheists?" Merrill tossed a can of beer at Peter. "How's that?"_

"_God created man in His image, right?" Peter waited for Merrill's nod. "But these days nobody believes in God no more. Atheists don't have time for him. That made God mad so He decided to show them gay lovin' lefties His wrath."_

"_By making mutants?" Merrill snorted his disgust. "Them things ain't God's folk!"_

"_Nossir they ain't, but God didn't make 'em in His image. He made 'em in the devil spawn's own to show the world what will happen if we turn from Him. That's why we should burn atheists and them mutants. I mean," Peter shrugged, "it's not like they're really human. Ways I see it they're all going to hell anyway along with their atheist sympathisers."_

X

"_Mama, I'm pregnant!"_

"_Lord, Jess, are you sure?"_

"_I took the test twice, mama." Jessica looked deep into her mother's eyes. "I thought you'd be happy."_

"_You have no right breeding with your blood, girl, no right!"_

"_But Peter wants kids."_

"_Not if he knew what you were."_

_Jessica paled. "You won't tell him will you?"_

"_By rights I should. Your man has strong beliefs and don't hold with laying down with no spawn of the devil."_

_Tears sprung to Jessica's eyes. "Then maybe you should have thought of that _before_ we got married."_

"_I'd hoped you might've grown out of it."_

"_What makes you think I haven't?"_

_Jessica's mother pointed at the young woman's finger. "That tells me so. It still oozes, don't it?"_

_Sobbing Jess nodded. "Maybe it will take after him and not me?"_

"_I pray to the good Lord Jesus that is so."_

X

_Pain, so much pain._

"_Bitch. You mutant _bitch! _Did you think I wouldn't find out?!"_

_Jessica tries to speak around a mouthful of blood._

"_I bet the baby ain't even mine! Everyone knows humans can't mate with mutants. You've been lying with the devil, whore." Peter punches his wife in the stomach. "You're nothing but a two-bit mutie whore. You killed my dog and then you planned on killing me. Your kind won't be happy till we're all dead!"_

_Jess curled up into a ball trying to avoid the blows._

"_I'll kill that demon inside of you if it's the last thing I do!"_

X

"_How does it feel?"_

_Jessica turns to look at the blue mutant behind her. "Feel?"_

_Mystique moves up to stand at her side looking down at the floor. "To have your revenge."_

_Jessica looks down at the contorted dead features of her ex-husband, his new human wife and their two young children. She smiles, but she feels no humour. "It feels good, it feels great." Jessica kicked Peter in the side of the head. "I just wished it had lasted longer."_

"_Time to go." The voice is older, male now._

_Jessica turns to see Mystique has transformed herself into a smartly dressed bald man. "Is that him?"_

_Mystique nodded. "Go to New York, find the school and wait there. When the time is right . . . kill him!"_

X

Charles Xavier's head snapped back as the memory faded away. Only seconds had passed since he delved into Jessi's mind. "Jessica," he began to say.

"NO!" Jessi's clenched her hands to the sides of her head. "Jessica's dead! She died in a pool of blood with her unborn child."

"I'm sorry for what happened to you." Charles tried to soothe the woman before him.

"Sorry? _Sorry_! It's all your fault, it's _always _been your fault." Jessi clambered awkwardly onto the desk. "But I'll kill the demon inside of you if it's the last thing I do!"

* * *

Logan burst into Xavier's office to see the professor wrestling with a deranged woman who was sitting in his lap. In any other circumstances Logan would have paused to appreciate the insanity of the moment but there was something about the way she was screaming 'Kill you! I will kill you!' that changed his mind. Logan was certain this wasn't the first person to try and kill the professor but she was surely the craziest.

Rushing towards the wheelchair Logan grabbed her by the shoulders, throwing her to the floor. The woman landed awkwardly cracking her head on the corner leg of the desk.

Assuming she was knocked out Logan turned back to Charles. "Are you all right?"

Charles nodded, trying to catch his breath.

"What the hell happened?" Logan asked.

Tugging at the lines of his suit in an attempt to restore a sense of calm and propriety Charles spoke. "Magneto sent Jessica Newton to this school to kill me."

"That was Jessi?" Logan looked down at the woman on the floor.

"Logan, normally I wouldn't presume," Charles Xavier looked down and indicated his legs, which had been twisted about in the struggle. "But would you mind helping me?"

"Yeah, sure," Logan knelt down and took a hold of Charles' left leg. "I can't believe that was –"

"Logan look out!"

Xavier's words were drowned out by Jessi's wild scream.

The sensation of the razor sharp blades slicing through Logan's knuckles was swiftly overpowered by a red-hot pain that seemed to originate in his right arm. It was almost like someone had injected lava directly into his bloodstream. The pain spread up and down his arm before travelling across his chest and down his left side. As Logan slumped to the floor he could almost hear a faint crackling sound over the screaming. His nose detected the first hints of snow before blackness overtook him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The attack on Charles Xavier had greatly upset everyone, no one felt safe and many of the students had taken the opportunity to gather in each other's dorms, ignoring the normal rules and curfews. No one was quite sure what had exactly happened and rumours were running wild through the corridors of the mansion.

John and Bobby had decided to wait with Kitty and Jubilee in the room the girls shared with Rogue.

"I'm telling you it's the only way people are ever gonna accept us." John was trying to explain his latest theory on mutant acceptance to the small group of friends as they waited for Rogue to return from the infirmary, where she had gone to check up on the health and condition of Logan.

Kitty rolled her eyes when John wasn't looking, much to Jubilee's amusement. "So how does it go again?" she sighed.

"You get us on the television, in some regular weekly show."

"A mutant sitcom," Bobby clarified.

"Not straight away," John said. "First you start off with a segment. Then eventually we'd get our own show." John looked around at the sceptical looks. "Look it'd work! It's been done before with black people –"

"African Americans." Kitty corrected him.

It was John's turn to roll his eyes. "Fine, African Americans, and then the gays came out of the TV closet and look how accepted they are now!"

"I think its going to take a bit more than that," said Bobby.

"Well its better than speaking at senate sub committees and holding dinky little community hall speeches or whatever the Professor is doing this week. Do you really think _that's_ going to help?"

"Well you have to start somewhere," Jubilee pointed out.

"Not for the stupid ignorant masses," said John. "All they care about is their next McFatty Meal and what's on the tube."

"John!"

"It's true! They're stupid and they hate anything different, admit it."

"I think that's an overstatement, don't you?" Charles Xavier spoke from the doorway.

John and Bobby jumped to their feet.

"Ah, Professor," Bobby stammered, looking at the other three for inspiration. 'We, uh, we were just waiting to find out about –"

"Logan, yes I know."

Rogue moved around Charles' wheelchair and entered the room. "Still no change," she said.

Kitty and Jubilee moved over on the bed to give Rogue space to sit down.

"I'm sure he'll be okay," said Kitty.

"Yeah, ole Muttonchops can survive anything." Jubilee added.

"Yeah, Rogue, he survived a dose of _you_, didn't he?" John said.

Rogue scowled in John's direction.

Bobby elbowed his friend sharply in the ribs. "Nice one, doofus," he whispered.

"Well he did." John protested.

"I think you two boys, should head back to your rooms," Charles said. "You still have to finish off that calculus test tomorrow."

All five teens groaned in unison.

"I was so hoping someone would forget about that," Bobby said as he and John left. "Night, everyone."

The boys wandered off to a chorus of 'see ya, tomorrow'.

"Go to sleep, girls," Xavier said kindly.

"Professor," Rogue asked. "Will Logan be alright?"

"What do you think?"

"He's Logan," Kitty said.

"Yeah," Jubilee added, nodding her head in emphasise. "Nothing can stop him."

"Ah guess," Rogue didn't seem as sure. "Goodnight Professor."

Charles Xavier manoeuvred his wheelchair away from the dorm. "What do you think?" he asked as he moved around the corner.

Scott Summers was leaning back against the wall, eyes tightly closed as he rubbed his ruby glasses clean on a soft cloth. "Think?" he said, "I think we were very lucky."

"We were wondering what Magneto was up to." Xavier started moving off down the hallway.

Scott folded the cloth into a neat square and placed it into a back pocket. Sliding his glasses back into place he pushed himself away from the wall and followed Xavier. "Placing a spy right in our midst," Scott shook his head. "How did we miss that?"

"We always talk about Magneto's arrogance," Xavier stopped moving and turned his chair to look at Scott. "Perhaps we should look closer to home. Logan was right I should have searched her mind before letting her get too close."

"It's always easier to make snap judgments when you're looking backwards not forwards."

"Meaning everyone makes mistakes, even me." Xavier nodded, he began moving off again. "The students performed well, Bobby's quick reaction to raise an ice wall isolating Jessi from everyone else was impressive and Rogue and Piotr keeping the other students clear until she left probably saved lives. We really should start training the older students."

Scott stopped walking. "Don't you think they're a bit young?"

Xavier continued moving. "And how old were you and Jean when you started?"

Shaking his head Scott hurried to catch up with the Professor muttering; "Now I feel old."

Xavier smiled wryly at the young man. "How do you think I feel?"

"Speaking of old,' Scott said, 'any change with Logan?"

"I was just going down to the infirmary to find out."

* * *

"How is he?" Charles Xavier wheeled himself into the sick bay, Scott by his side, and over to the first of a row of stainless steel beds.

Lying atop of it was Logan, the steady beeping of the heart monitor and the faint rise and fall of his chest the only indication he was still alive.

Jean sighed as she pulled off her glasses and rubbed at her eyes. "Stable, for now, but I'm not sure what else I can do for him."

Scott walked over and kissed his fiancée. "I'm sure you're doing all you can."

Jean smiled slightly at the comment, "But am I doing enough?"

"Time will tell," Charles said, looking at the comatose mutant. "It usually does, with Logan."

"If only I knew what I was dealing with. I've run some tests but . . ." Jean gestured towards the far side of the room where several pieces of expensive looking equipment stood. "So far I've come up with nothing; at this stage I'm not even sure if the attack was physical, or mental. Did she even use her mutant power?"

"We never sensed any mental abilities from Jessi," Scott said. "You were there, Professor, how did it play out to you?"

"The attack was physical, but she used her mutant abilities." Charles Xavier manoeuvred his chair until he was situated right behind Logan's head. "But maybe I can narrow things down a little."

Placing his hands on either side of Logan's head, Xavier closed his eyes and reached into Logan's mind.

_Pain. Fight. Fight the enemy. Fight at all costs! Red. Pain. Blood. Kill 'em, kill 'em all!_

Xavier's image of Logan was of a man fighting nothing. He stood alone in the dark, teeth bared, claws flashing at he slashed and struck out at the empty space around him.

"Logan."

At first he didn't hear Xavier, he just continued growling and fighting. Then he turned and stared. There was no recognition in Logan's eyes, no sign of the man at all, just an angry beast fighting for survival. With a roar of rage, Logan lunged towards the Professor.

Charles rocked back in his chair, hands flying away from Logan's head. Clearing his throat he looked up to see both his young protégés looking worriedly back at him.

"What happened?" Scott asked.

"I had planned on searching Logan's memories; try to find out exactly what happened."

"And?" Jean said.

"He's fighting; I think he's fighting whatever Jessi attacked him with."

"So it's physical whatever it is." Scott said.

Almost at the same time as Jean said, "He's still in there, thank God."

Xavier refrained from mentioning Logan's condition, how there was a chance that even if he did survive this attack the man might still be lost. He reached out and rested a hand on Logan's arm. "You saved my life," he told the unconscious mutant, "thank you."

"I liked her," Jean said. "I just can't believe Jessi . . ." she shook her head in disbelief.

Charles shook his head as well. "She was a fragile and damaged mind that Eric used to his advantage."

Jean picked up a needle and syringe to take some of Logan's blood.

"Where is she now?" said Scott.

"Florida," Charles replied, "although I'm sure that will change."

"Probably no point taking the jet out there," Scott said. "Magneto's new tool is too valuable. He'll have her on the move the moment we left the premises."

"Why would she try and kill you?" asked Jean.

"Because she blamed me for what happened to her." Charles said.

Jean watched as the red blood slowly filled the syringe. "But it wasn't your fault."

"Hatred of mutants ruined her life and killed her unborn son and I am one of the most prominent voices for reconciliation. If you were in her shoes, who would you blame?"

Jean removed the needle and wiped away a speck of blood. She sighed. "No change to his healing ability."

"Still?" Scott said.

"It's been over sixteen hours."

"Give him time, Logan's come back from worse, remember?"

Jean caught herself before she sighed again. "I remember."

Scott hugged Jean. "You look exhausted, come back upstairs."

"In a little while." Jean motioned towards equipment with the syringe. "I want to run a few more tests, maybe find a way to help Logan."

Charles nodded and turned for the door. "Don't be long," he said over his shoulder, well aware of Jean's tendency to become completely absorbed in her tasks. "We'll be waiting for you."

* * *

Storm looked from Jean to Charles, as the X-Men sat in the professor's study a few hours later. "Poison?" she asked again.

Jean nodded. "The most powerful toxin I have ever seen. It paralyses the nervous system and immediately starts breaking down major organs."

"Well that explains why Logan isn't healing," Scott said. "He's too busy trying to fight the poison."

"And Jessi has it in her body?" Storm said. "Why doesn't it kill her?"

Jean shrugged. "A natural immunity perhaps?"

"Doesn't matter how she does it," Scott said. "She's a powerful weapon."

"And one Magneto won't be afraid to exploit." Charles said.

"I've checked her room," Scott said, "looks like she escaped with the clothes on her back and nothing more."

"She doesn't need anything else," said Storm. "The Brotherhood will give her whatever she wants."

"What she really wants is her life back." Charles said.

"Don't we all?" Jean muttered.

'Well if she wants her life back, is there any chance –?" Storm started to say.

Charles shook his head. "Magneto and Mystique helped her destroy the only family she had left in the world; I saw that much in her mind. No," he shook his head again, "that connection is gone forever. There is nothing for her here now; she is fully committed to Magneto's cause."

Jean shuddered, "Could you imagine doing something like that to your own family?"

"From what the Professor said, they weren't much of a family to begin with." Scott said.

"Family is family, Scott," Jean said, "even when its messed up. We all know that."

"So Jessi is off with the Brotherhood and Logan's unconscious fighting some super strong mutant poison, does that pretty much sum things up?" Scott said, moving the subject back to something he was more comfortable dealing with.

"Pretty much," Storm said.

"So what do we do now?" Jean asked.

"We keep track of Jess's whereabouts and be prepared to move in on her at a moments notice." Scott said.

"And how do we stop someone that can kill at a touch?" Storm asked.

"From a distance," Scott replied coldly.

"And in the meantime we monitor Logan and hope for the best?" Jean asked.

"It's all we can do," Charles Xavier replied. "It's up to Logan now."

* * *

Rogue sat crossed legged on a steel gurney trying to remember the exact definition of an adverb for her English assignment. She was all alone today in the infirmary, sitting, waiting for Logan to regain consciousness. Waiting for him to return to the land of the living.

At first her friends had sat vigil with her, and tried to keep her spirits up with "Keeping 'Ole Muttonchops Company" parties. They made an obvious attempt to include Logan in their festivities by making snide remarks in his direction and even dressing him up in party hats and streamers, but one by one they had drifted away. No one wanted to say it in her presence but the general opinion around the school was that Logan would never come back from the attack. The indestructible mutant was just a vegetable now; one that bruised when you prodded him and bled if you dared to stick him with a needle.

But Rogue knew better, she'd seen the extremes that he'd come back from before. Like John had said all those weeks ago, if he could survive Rogue, he could survive anything. Right?

"Ah don't suppose you know what an adverb is, Logan?" she asked without really expecting a response. It happened a lot now. She'd find herself saying things just to break the heavy silence.

Turning to the comatose mutant she jumped in surprise to see his eyes half open.

"Logan?" she jumped off the gurney and tentatively approached. "Is that you, are you awake?"

His eyes slowly closed again. Rogue reached out and gently touched his arm. The muscles twitched under her gloved hand. "Logan?"

"Whnn," Logan swallowed and his eyes flickered open for a brief minute. His gaze fixed on Rogue. "Rog?"

Rogue laughed with relief, "Close enough. Ah'll get the Professor. Ah _knew_ you were going to be okay." She said fiercely, like she'd never had any doubts.

* * *

"Well," Charles wheeled into the infirmary to see Jean and Ororo grouped around a bed. "How's our patient?"

The two women parted to reveal a tired Logan propped up on pillows.

Charles manoeuvred closer to the bed. "Logan?"

Logan stared blankly at Xavier for a few moments before grunting, "Chuck."

"Glad to have you back," Charles said.

"What happened?" Logan asked.

"What do you remember?"

Logan thought about that for another moment. "We were attacked."

"By Jessi," Ororo said.

"Seems she was working with Magneto," Jean added.

"Told you she was screwy," Logan said. "Did she get away?"

"Unfortunately," Xavier said.

"Anyone else hurt?"

Turning to a nearby table Jean spoke as she picked up a syringe, "Only you," she said.

Grunting Logan pushed himself back against the pillows, trying to sit up. Waving away Ororo's help he struggled briefly with his blanket before resettling himself into a more upright position. "So where do we stand now?"

"Right now," Xavier said, "We're looking for Jessi but Eric is keeping her constantly on the move."

"Not that we're sure what to do with her if we ever did find her," Storm muttered.

Logan tried to hide a wince as Jean removed some of his blood with the syringe. "You turned vampire on me now?" he asked. 'That's the fourth time you've done that since I woke up."

"Just monitoring the poison levels in your body, Logan." Jean sighed slightly, something she found she'd been doing a lot of since the attack, as she pulled the syringe out and saw the blood continuing to bead on Logan's skin.

"There are more fun ways to monitor my body, sweetheart, believe me."

"I'm glad to see you rejoined the land of the conscious, Logan." Storm said, "But I have a class to teach so I'll catch you later." She leant forward and hugged the scruffy mutant. "We missed you," she whispered in his ear.

Logan reached around and hugged her back. "I'll take any excuse to feel up a fine woman."

Storm gave an unlady like snort. "Oh he's back, alright."

With that final statement Storm glided gracefully out of the room, fully aware that Logan was watching and admiring her every move.

Charles didn't even try to hide a small smile; he knew Logan's tactics were purely to avoid thinking about his current situation, well almost purely. "I take it that Jean has told you about your current condition?"

Logan turned from watching the now empty doorway and looked in some fascination at the blood slowly dripping down his arm. "If you mean that my healing ability's gone down the toilet, then yeah, she gave me the good news."

"I'm hoping just this is just temporary," Jean said over her shoulder from the far side of the laboratory where she was preparing Logan's blood. "If things work out as I hope when the poison in your blood falls to undetectable levels, I believe that your immune and healing responses will return to normal."

"And if they don't?" Logan asked.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." Charles said.

"No offence, Chuck, but I prefer to burn my bridges rather than cross 'em."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Logan recovered slowly and while his health seemed to improve his healing abilities didn't. After almost a week of increasing tension in the mansion Logan finally lost his temper at his staunchest supporter, Rogue. She fled the room, trying to hide her tears and Logan stormed out of the mansion. He returned several hours later and disappeared into his room, glaring at anyone who even _looked_ like they might try to talk to him.

When Scott thought enough time had passed he knocked on Logan's door. There was no answer, so he knocked again. Everyone knew the stories about waking Logan when he was asleep; it tended to come with infirmary visits if you weren't quick enough. Finally Scott just opened the door, no one was inside. Logan had disappeared yet again.

"Great, now where do I start looking?" He muttered.

Scott finally found Logan out on the balcony, leaning against the cooling stone and just staring out over the gardens.

"Summers." Logan grunted, not turning around. "Last person I expected to come find me. You draw the short straw or something?"

"Perks of leadership," Scott Summers walked out on the balcony to stand near the angry Canadian placing a backpack he had been carrying by his feet. "So, you've had quite the week."

"Don't start."

"No? But it's such a long list, where do I begin?" Scott began counting off the highlights on his fingers. "You've managed to make three new students cry, I've lost track of what you've smashed or broken and let's not forget the claw marks in the Professor's door shall we?" Scott looked over at Logan. "How is the hand, by the way?"

Logan looked down at his heavily bandaged right fist. "Don't ask."

"And then there's Rogue."

Logan sighed heavily, that was probably the only thing he felt guilty about. Rogue had just been trying to cheer him up, just being adorable teenage Rogue and he'd practically bitten her head off. "Tell her I'm sorry, will ya?"

"Tell her yourself." Scott moved nearer to Logan, leaning back on his elbows against the balcony railing. "Now normally in these situations when I have troublesome students I would suggest we sit down with a big bowl of ice cream and try to sort things out, but somehow I don't think that would work with you."

Logan didn't even bother replying to that comment. He just kept staring out into the ever darkening night.

"Yeah that's what I thought too." Scott leant down and picked up the backpack. "So I'm trying another tactic." He pulled out a six pack of beer, placing it on the railing and pulling one of the bottles out of the cardboard rack tossed it towards Logan.

Turning Logan grunted in surprise as he caught it. "Beer, and on a school night?"

"Like I said, perks of leadership."

"What _would_ the Professor say?" Logan twisted the lid off, flicking it over the side into the bushes below.

"Who do you think suggested it?" Scott said.

Logan grunted and looked at the label. "Canadian?"

"Not my first choice, but I thought you might appreciate it."

Logan's answer was a large mouthful of beer. "Say your piece, Summers."

Scott twisted the lid off his bottle. "Since you were attacked everyone's been talking about what it would be like to lose their abilities."

Logan drank some more beer, "Have they?"

Scott looked out into the shadows below. "Most of them feel like you do, that losing your powers would be the end of the world. Mind you," he laughed, "we are talking about teenagers here."

"What do you think?"

Scott looked over at Logan and gestured towards his face. "I don't know, lose my headaches and be able to see Jean without these damn glasses? Sometimes," he shrugged, "yeah, I'd give anything for that."

Logan tilted his head back and drained his beer, gesturing for another; Scott passed him the remaining four.

"I can't believe I'm having this conversation with you of all people." Logan said, placing the now empty bottle on the railing next to him.

"Well I tried to get Storm to do it but she said something about it being more of a conversation between men," Scott shrugged, "whatever that meant."

"They would have just bought feelings into it, or something." Logan agreed.

"Right, we can't have that."

Both men leant against the stone railing and looked out into the dark. Scott couldn't have planned it better if he had tried. Neither of them weren't comfortable dealing with each other at the best of times, but here, in the dark, with the only light coming from the room behind them, it was like a confessional, you could almost pretend you were alone. Scott hoped Logan would be able to talk about things that, if they'd had this conversation in a lit room he would have just shut down and avoided.

"Jean thinks you want to leave again." Scott said.

Logan growled slightly before replying, "Not much use here at the moment."

"Because of your healing?"

"Because without it I'm a damn liability. Would you want me at your back in a fight?"

Scott looked over at Logan, in the dark he could only see half of his face lit up. Now they seemed to be getting to the source of Logan's anger.

"Do you really think that we'd abandon you because you can't heal? Logan like it or not, and sometimes I really don't, we're all family here. You're more than just a pair of fists."

Logan wrenched the bottle cap off his second beer and flung it out into the night. "I only know one way to fight, Summers, that's all out, balls to the wall. I depend on my healing to get me through. All I know is claws and blood; I can't remember what I was like before I became a mutant. How can I protect anyone when I can't even be sure I can protect myself."

Scott began picking at the label of his bottle with his fingernail. "Well I'm glad you brought that up," he said, "because the Professor and I have been thinking. Xavier wants to start training some of the older students –"

"Oh shit, no," Logan turned, lunging towards Scott in his anger and prodded the younger man in the chest, "I'm _not_ a teacher!"

Scott took a step back and refrained from rubbing the sore spot on his ribs. "When I first came here," he began. "All I could think about was how invincible I was with my abilities. It never occurred to me that I might have to know how to fight without them. It took the Professor to point out that sometimes we might have to fight normal people or go out in disguise and fight without blasting everything away." Scott waved behind him at the mansion. "These kids, they think the same way. Think everything can be fixed with powers. But you and I both know better, we've seen the real world."

Logan said nothing; he just turned away and drank some more of his beer.

"Logan," it was Scott's turn to move into the other man's space. "You are a fighter but more importantly you're also a survivor. You have a skill set that can keep these kids alive on a battlefield. You can teach them how to survive, too." Then he pulled out his trump card. "You can teach _Rogue_ how to survive."

Logan whipped his head around and growled at Scott. "Don't bring her into this."

"Is everything alright?" Both men turned to see Jean Grey silhouetted in the doorway leading to the balcony. "Scott?"

Scott drank the last of his beer. "Think about it?" he asked the Canadian.

Logan turned back into the gloom and grunted in agreement.

"Good, because I booked you into the Danger Room for 10 a.m. tomorrow." Scott moved away from Logan and over to Jean. Placing an arm around her shoulders he saluted

Logan with the empty bottle. "Try not to break any of them on their first day."

* * *

"Oh man did you see that?" John asked.

The young mutant was sitting outside the Danger Room with Kitty and Rogue, waiting for the Bobby, Jubilee and Piotr to finish changing after another long session with Wolverine.

"I mean when Miss Monroe stood there waiting for big ol' Colossus to charge her. Then at the last minute she just," John's hands tried to mimic the move he had seen earlier, "and Piotr just went flying, man, flying!"

"Yeah, we know," Kitty said slinging one arm about Rogue's shoulders. "We were there too, you know."

"Do you think we can do that?" John asked.

"Ah, think that's the point, dummy." Rogue said. "Take down the bad guys without using our powers."

"But when can we start doing stuff like that? I'm tired of learning defensive moves man, I wanna go pro."

"Don't you watch any kung-fu movies, John?" Kitty asked. "You got to learn the basics, learn the foundations stuff before you can go all Bruce Lee on someone."

"Who thinks they're Bruce Lee?" Bobby walked out of the change rooms behind Piotr, a towel draped across his shoulders.

Rogue jerked a thumb over her shoulder at John. "Somebody wants to kick ass."

"Somebody needs to stop _landing_ on his ass," Piotr said.

Laughing Bobby threw his towel at John, "Yeah, man, how many times Logan got to knock you down before you get the idea. Its block, block, _then _youcounter punch."

"The guy hates me."

"Logan's not that bad," Rogue faithfully rose to his defence.

"He _likes _you." John pointed out.

"Hey!" The teenagers looked around to see Logan standing in the doorway. "Get to class the lotta ya."

"You guys go ahead," Rogue said to her friends, "I'll wait for Jubilee."

Bobby waited until the others had moved down the corridor before moving closer to Rogue. "I'll see you later?" he asked her quietly, more than aware of Logan looking on.

Rogue slipped her gloved hand into his. "Sure."

Smiling Bobby walked away.

Rogue turned around and caught Logan staring at her. "What?"

"Nothin'." Logan couldn't work out where this big brother crap was coming from; the girl was old enough to live her own life. Still if Bobby hit the floor hard a few times in their next session would anyone really notice, after all he was just teaching them how to survive.

"Well fine then."

Logan had apologised for the fight they had earlier and Rogue had, naturally, forgiven him. She still had memories of being Logan from before and in a way she understood how he felt when his healing seemed to fail him. Rogue walked over to Logan and watched him as he started unwinding the bandage that covered his right hand. During their last session it had begun to loosen and Rogue had offered to tighten it up afterwards.

"Ah'm sure you'd rather Miss Grey was doing this," she teased him.

As the last of the bandage fell away both of them stared.

"Oh my god, Logan," Rogue breathed as she reached out towards his unblemished skin. "Does this mean –?"

Logan stepped back; there was only one way to find out. Tensing muscles he felt the razor sharp blades begin to tear through his skin.

_Snikt!_

Rogue gasped as three adamantium blades appeared between his knuckles. For a few seconds they shone in the fluorescent light before Logan relaxed his hand and they disappeared, leaving behind three vertical bleeding wounds.

Both of them stood there staring, waiting. Blood gently oozed from between his knuckles, running down the back of his hand.

A minute passed and Rogue was about to say something when the wounds slowly healed until there was nothing to show where they had been but a few smudges of blood.

"It worked," Rogue looked from Logan's hand to his face. "Did you see that? You healed, you're better." She threw her arms about his big frame and hugged him tightly, laughing. "It worked!"

Jubilee chose this moment to step out of the change rooms to see Rogue hugging Logan tightly as he stared down at his undamaged right hand. "What worked?" she asked.

* * *

The impromptu party had wound down hours ago finally giving Logan a chance to escape all the attention. He leant against an outside wall of the mansion, the rough-hewn stone pressing into his back. Closing his eyes he blew out a long stream of cigar smoke. He heard the faint hum of the motorised wheelchair minutes before it appeared carrying Charles Xavier.

"I knew I'd find you here." The bald mutant said.

"Read my mind, huh?" Logan replied.

"No, I just smelt your cigar smoke." He said dryly.

Logan grunted at the comment and moved the cigar over to the left side of his mouth, away from the professor. "Relax it's not like it's gonna kill me."

"A few days ago you might have thought differently."

"That was then; even I have been known to change."

Charles maneuvered his wheelchair so he was facing away from Logan and staring out into the gardens. "Still, I know things haven't been easy for you lately." He briefly glanced back. "How are you feeling?"

"Dandy, you?"

"Logan –"

"Look you know I don't like all this touchy feely shit, if you really wanna know how I feel why don't you just read my mind?"

Charles rubbed a hand over the arm of his chair. "Maybe because I am afraid of what I might find."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

Sighing Charles turned back to Logan. "A part of me wonders if you blame me for what happened. If I had listened to you and read Jessi's mind I would have uncovered the truth before . . ."

"Before she attacked you." Logan blew out another long stream of smoke. "It ain't your fault, Professor, besides I'm the only one here that coulda been attacked and survived. Better me then you."

Charles nodded. "Still living here seems to be bad for your health."

Logan chuckled. "Livin' anywhere is bad for a mutant's health. Here at least it's better than most."

"Jean says that your ability hasn't returned to full strength yet."

Logan wedged his cigar into the corner of his mouth so he could hold his hands out in front of him. "Not yet but its getting there." He rubbed at the clean skin between his knuckles of his right fist, still a little amazed that he was whole again.

"Give it time, Logan."

Logan just grunted and went back to puffing on his cigar. The pair stayed that way for a few minutes, both just staring out over the gardens lost in their individual thoughts.

"I can't imagine what it must have been like to lose your healing ability, even for a short time." Charles finally said. "As much as we try to think otherwise so much of our personal identity is connected to our mutant abilities."

Logan absently nodded in agreement. "If we lose that it's like we've lost a part of ourselves."

Charles smiled at the comment. "I think that's true of all people, not just mutants. Loss is the great equaliser."

"Shit, this is too deep for me," Logan dropped his cigar on the ground and stubbed it out. "Save that for your students, Chuck, I'm fine. Always am, always will be." Kicking the remains of the cigar under the nearest bush Logan stood up straight and pulled some keys from out of his jacket pocket.

"Going somewhere?" Charles asked.

"Yeah for a beer, wanna come?"

Xavier looked back into the mansion. "Not this time, besides," he smiled. "I doubt my wheelchair would fit on Scott's bike."

"We could take the van."

"And have you drive me home drunk, or am I supposed to be the designated driver?"

Charles laughed. "Now what kind of example would that set for the children?"

"That even the best need to let their hair down occasionally?" Logan looked over at Charles's bald head, "So to speak."

"Hmm, perhaps it is a good idea for you to take a break from here. I think you've seen more than enough of the infirmary and the children for a few days. And if you leave now you might just get drunk enough to meet my bet of 1 a.m."

"What?"

Charles looked over at Logan. "I had a friend place a bet last week on my behalf. I believe the pot is currently around seven hundred and forty dollars now and three nights free drinking. I'm more than happy for you to split the money with Beryl but I would ask you give the beer to my friend, Lewis."

Logan frowned at the name. "Who the hell is Lewis and how do you know about that?"

"Lewis is a telepath who hasn't dealt very well with his gift." Xavier explained. "Unlike myself he has never learnt how to shut off the voices, they plague him constantly. I try to help him where I can, but the only thing that seems to work is alcohol and music. Maybe you know him; he has a fondness for country, particularly a singer called Billie Ray? As for how I know, Logan," Xavier smiled, "I know everything."

"Shit, that old drunk? That guy's a mutant?"

"He wasn't always a drunk; he once was a brilliant teacher and friend. You should have learnt by now not to judge on appearances." Charles defended.

Logan tossed the bike keys into the air, speaking as he caught them. "Guess I coulda gone easier on the guy, not his fault his life turned out the way it did. Still I just wish he'd occasionally play some other damn song."

Xavier activated his wheelchair and began to move back towards the mansion. "Take a few days off, Logan, but I expect to see you back bright and early Wednesday morning, you have students to teach." He turned his head slightly and said over his shoulder, "And don't forget to pick up that cigar stub and all those beer bottle caps from the other night. I will not have my garden looking like pigsty."

Logan stepped away from the mansion walls and walked over to Scott's bike. Seating himself on the bike Logan pulled out another cigar and lit it. "Not tonight, Chuck," he puffed on the cigar until the tip glowed red in the darkness. "Tonight me and Lewis, we're gonna get wasted."

* * *

Somewhere in America three mutants finished off a meal and plotted their next move.

"I'm sorry, I tried." Venom said as she sat across from Magneto and Mystique.

"Superior beings don't apologise, it is not in their nature." Magneto said, as he sipped some wine. "The Wolverine is becoming increasingly annoying. We might have to do something about that."

Mystique squirmed slightly in her seat.

"You had your chance, my dear," Magneto told her. "You didn't kill him then."

"I could still take him," Mystique said.

"And then do what with him? No, we'll deal with the Wolverine in our own time."

"What about Xavier?" Venom asked a little timidly.

Magneto mentally pushed his empty plate across the table. "The X-Men will be on the alert now. We won't have another chance with him again." he looked thoughtfully over at Venom. "But he is not the only target."

"Who else is there?" Venom asked.

"Xavier has a strong ally in Congress," Magneto said. "Someone who will support him and could potentially sway many others to his side."

"Senator Bartholomew," Mystique said, toying with a fork. "A man of many tastes."

"And as many mistresses." Magneto poured himself some more wine.

"If he was to tragically die . . ." Mystique purred, looking from Magneto to Venom.

"My dear," Magneto poured Venom some wine, "We might have need of _all_ your services."


End file.
